


Invisible (Or, I Always feel like somebody's watching me)

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: Exhibitionism, Invisibility, M/M, Voyeurism, bathroomsecks, canyoutellihaveafetishforthesethings?, creeping, i always feel like somebody's watching m, promptmemefill, season4, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the peter_sylar prompt fest. Peter watches Sylar while invisible to make sure the other man doesn't slip up. Some situations occur. (You fill in the blanks.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible (Or, I Always feel like somebody's watching me)

Several weeks have passed since the time Peter refers to as "The Incident". Now the word was out, and the whole world knew about people like him. Like Emma. Like his ma, and Claire, and Matt- almost everyone he associated himself was gifted with abilities. Peter was more and more uneasy and convinced that one morning he'd wake up and all his friends would be locked up. Maybe even one morning he'd wake up and realize he had become the person Hiro saw in the future, the one he talked to. The one with the scar.

It's not a future he wished on himself. There was, however, one future he did wish would happen, and that was the future where Sylar was reformed, and normal. Happy.

It was easy enough for Peter to find someone who had invisibility, since more and more specials were lining up to protest the treatment they were being given. All he had to do was accidentally brush by someone standing outside the mayor's office, and that was it. The rest would be a little more difficult, Peter decides, and eventually, tracks down the other man.

The apartment he's in is almost identical to the one Peter followed him to when he first got inside the nightmare, complete with books and clocks stacked everywhere, despite how immaculate the rest of it was. Peter couldn't even find a speck of dust in the place, and he vaguely recalls Sylar mentioning he was a little OCD when it came to cleaning.

The first day is easy enough. Sylar wakes up, shaves, takes a shower, goes out to get groceries (shape shifted into someone the NYPD isn't currently looking for for murder), then comes back and reads a little.

Peter's not sure if Sylar knows he's there. He knows the other man possesses extraordinary hearing, an ability he stole from right under Mohinder's nose, but he's not entirely sure what that applies to. Just in case, Peter is careful to not make any noise as he moves about the small apartment.

Days start to pass, and Sylar spends his time in the same routine. Peter comes and goes, not really sure when is the best time, but knowing that he has to sleep, eat and take care of other things sometime.

One day, he finds himself not really tired, so he decides to stay at Sylar's apartment. He sits just outside the bedroom door, listening carefully for signs of life, but instead, just hears the quiet rise and fall of the other man's chest as he sleeps. After several minutes, maybe even hours (Peter is never sure), Peter stands up and carefully tip toes into the bedroom. Light from the blinds cascade across the form lying prone in the bed, and Peter has to restrain the urge to reach out and touch. Sylar looks so innocent, so out of character, that it's surreal.

Long, dark lashes rest on high cheekbones, occasionally flinching as the other man dreams. His lips are parted just a little, his hair is a mess, and his shirt is half unbuttoned as he sleeps.

Peter can't stand it any longer. Carefully, he leans in a little, still in invisibility, and whispers, "Sylar."

When the sleeping man doesn't stir, Peter very slowly reaches out and cups Sylar's face. His skin is smooth underneath Peter's hand, and as he moves it down a little he feels the slight stubble already growing back in.

He allows himself a few more seconds before pulling his hand away and leaving the room, and then sneaking out of the apartment.

Enough is enough.

It's a few days later and Peter is almost convinced that there really is no more need to watch Sylar. He's done nothing worth notice in all the time Peter has been watching him. Still, Peter decides he's better off safe than sorry, and appears right before Sylar wakes up, like he always does.

Sylar wakes, stretches, heads to the bathroom, like always. Peter can hear the water running as the other man starts up the shower, and sits back to stare at the ceiling. The sound is soothing, and Peter allows his eyes to unfocus as he relaxes.

His eyes quickly refocus when the water stops and a very wet, very naked figure comes out of the bathroom, stalking towards a cabinet to grab some towels. Peter knows he should look away, he really does, but some strange fascination has taken ahold of him.

His cheeks turn red as Sylar bends over slightly to grab a hold of a towel pushed back into the cabinet. Peter follows the other man with his eyes as he walks around the room, still dripping wet and still totally nude.

When Sylar heads back into his bathroom, Peter quickly bolts the apartment and tries to find something else to focus on.

He knows he shouldn't, but he goes back later and watches as the former killer goes about his evening routine. He heads to bed, and Peter sits outside his bedroom door as usual, listening for the other man to go to sleep. This time, however, all Peter hears is slightly irregular breathing. At first, he thinks it's nothing, until he can just make out the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin. Just like earlier, Peter cannot get himself away. He sits, frozen to the spot, hearing Sylar undoubtedly pleasure himself.

Peter's already getting hard.

He leans the side of his head against the door so he can hear better, and before he knows it, his hand has slid down his body until it was palming the undeniable bulge in his jeans. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he overhears Sylar's muted moans of ecstasy as he speeds up his hand, and as Peter hand moves to the buttons of his own jeans, he overhears something that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Sylar was moaning _his_ name.

Peter swears that at this moment, he has never been more hard in his life. So, he does the only logical thing, and ends up fisting himself frantically as he tries in vain to make out the noises and actions of the man behind the door. When Sylar comes with a bitten back version of Peter's name, the man in question follows quickly after with his hand shoved in his mouth so he doesn't make a noise.

He waits until he's sure the other man is asleep before cleaning himself off and leaving. As he walks back to his apartment, he reasons that the only reason he did what he did was because it's been a long, long time since he had felt someone else's touch. Of course. Sylar was changed, yes, but the facts remain that he deserved no affection from Peter, not after all the horrible things he'd done.

That's what Peter told himself.

A few more days pass like that, and Peter's taken to staying in Sylar's room when the other man heads to bed. He watches as Sylar fucks himself while thinking about Peter, sees the slide of skin on skin and hears the way Sylar breathes Peter's name with reverence. It makes Peter want to touch himself so badly, but more than anything, it makes him want to reach out and touch Sylar.

It's not the first time he's felt this way. During their stay in the nightmare, Peter watched those sad eyes of Sylar's and wanted to hold him, comfort him. But he knew that deep down inside, Sylar didn't deserve being loved.

So he held himself back. It took all he had not to reach out and hug Sylar when they both had finally escaped, covered in dust and breathing hard.

He didn't.

So now he found himself watching Sylar asleep, after another night of pretending it was really Peter he was touching, and not just himself. Peter had always been a tactile person, and he especially liked touching people, letting them know that he was there for them. He particularly liked faces. His mom, Nathan, Emma, Elle, Mohinder, Hiro, Matt...everyone. Now the temptation was overwhelming.

Knowing full well he probably wouldn't get caught, he allows himself one quick caress across the other man's face, resting just under his chin. Maybe it was just some weird elevated sense of invincibility, but Peter decided to take a risk. He bent his head and slowly, gently, pressed his lips against the other man's. Sylar's lips were smooth, soft, full. Like Peter always imagined them to be. They weren't like his own lips, with the crooked side, the one that made him hide his mouth and refuse to smile in public.

Quickly, he pulled away and waited to see if the other man would stir. He didn't, so Peter decides to press his luck and run a hand experimentally down Sylar's neck and on to his chest. With feather light touches, Peter lets his hands explore the hard angles and soft skin, taking time to run his fingers through the other man's chest hair. He moved his fingers down some more and traced the lines of Sylar's abdomen. It felt so warm underneath Peter's hands.

When Peter's hands had drifted towards Sylar's hip bones, Peter quickly pulls his hands away, if burned. What was he doing? This was wrong. He was practically molesting the other man, and no matter how addicting it was, Peter had to stop.

He stands and watches Sylar for a few moments before stepping back a few feet and carefully undoing the zipper to his pants. Touching that scorching body was too much for him, and he found himself just as aroused as he was the first night he overheard Sylar touching himself. A few quick strokes and he comes, biting his lip hard to prevent any noise from leaking through. He leans against a wall and catches his breath before sneaking back out. He ends up falling asleep on the couch.

He wakes up right before Sylar normally does and panicking, slips back into invisibility before Sylar can waltz in and catch him. Just in time, too, as there's Sylar, wandering into the living room in pajamas as he heads to the kitchen.

Peter doesn't want any more close calls, so he leaves before he can catch Sylar in the act again, or anything else incredibly tempting like that.

Unfortunately for Peter, his resolves breaks when he accidentally walks in on Sylar leaning against the counter in his bathroom, jerking himself off. In the middle of the day.

Peter stares at the familiar rhythm of hand on cock, although this time is different. This time, it's not in the hushed night in the dark. No, this time, it's in daylight and Peter can see every single detail of the other man as his head tips back and he thrusts hollowly into his own hand.

He's not entirely sure what it is about this particular time that's caused Peter to snap, but he pushes the door open, sliding into visibility as he presses his body against Sylar's and slides his hand around the other man's.

Sylar manages to groan a surprised "Peter?" before his mouth is covered by the empath's. After that, he lets Peter continue to touch him as he works on taking the other man's clothes off. When his mouth is finally unoccupied, he leans in and whispers, "You know, you pretty much violated me the other day. I could press charges."

Peter pulls back, eyes wide with shock.

Sylar's mouth quirks into a grin, and he quips, "Although I can't say I don't blame you. I am pretty irresistible."

Peter rolls his eyes and twists his wrist, dragging a low moan from the other man.

This time, it's his turn to be snarky.

"Yeah, well, I should kick your ass for thinking about me when you jerk off."

Sylar just smiles, eyes closed, and leans into Peter's touch. His hand reaches out and pulls Peter closer, close enough that he can wrap his hand around the empath's cock and give a few strokes.

"Can you blame me? I'm trying to just live my life and you're sneaking around my apartment like a creep, watching me." He pauses long enough to nip at Peter's earlobe. "Maybe it turned me on."

Peter's other hand digs into Sylar's shoulder as he bucks his hips slightly.

"I didn't know you were into exhibitionism," Peter muses, and Sylar replies, "I didn't know you were into voyeurism."

"You learn new things everyday, I guess." Peter speeds up his hand and lets his head droop onto the other man's shoulder when he does the same. "Although I think I just liked that you were thinking about me."

Sylar's free hand digs a little deeper into Peter's hip as he whispers, quietly, "Because you want me, and care about me. You need me. You're in love with me."

Peter knows that Sylar had just read him with Lydia's power, but he doesn't mind. He was so afraid to admit these things to himself; they must have been repressed. Realizing that Sylar was waiting for him to say something, Peter tries, "Yeah."

He lifts his head up and looks directly into the other man's eyes.

"Yeah."

He slides his hand up and pulls Sylar close, kissing him hard, and revels in the way Sylar does the same. He takes Lydia's power accidentally, and the feedback loop he creates by reading Sylar is enough to make him come, hard. Sylar's still jerking him through the aftershocks when he rubs a thumb over the head of the other man's cock, making him follow with a completely unabashed cry of the name of the object of his affections.

They must have slid down on to the floor, cause when Peter's mind starts working again, he realizes that he's leaning against Sylar, who in turn, is leaning against the cabinet doors.

They sit for several seconds in breathless silence before Sylar presses a quick kiss to Peter's forehead.

"Does this mean you'll stop creeping around my apartment?"

Peter laughs low in his throat.

"Maybe if you stop parading yourself in front of me," he replies.

Sylar smiles.

"No promises."

Peter nods back.

"No promises," he agrees.

He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of finally, _finally_ being seen. He didn't have to hide anymore; neither of them did.

It was the most freeing feeling he had felt in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Written forever ago for LJ.


End file.
